Sick Day
by StormWildcat
Summary: Naoto's been trapped at home sick, bored and cut off from her cases. Who knew the one to visit her would be Kanji? Fluffy Kannao!


**Disclaimer: **I do not own any characters of Persona as they are owned by Atlus nor do I make any money from my writing. It's purely for fun!

*Naoto's POV*

What timing.

A huge break in a case and I ended up sick. Of course. And as per usual when I'm under the weather, Grandpa insisted that I follow the doctor's strict orders of plenty of fluids and bed rest. No school. No case. I know I could at least look through files, but when I was caught with them the other morning, they were confiscated and moved into his study. Out of reach of my very idle hands.

As I thumb through one of my favorite detective novels, wondering if I should bother reading it or just going to sleep, a gentle rapping at my door catches my attention. Voice raspy from the illness, I allowed access to my room to the best of my ability, "Come in". I expected the familiar form of my grandfather with yet another glass of water (he's had me at 8 glasses a day since I started showing symptoms), but I was surprised to see something broader, taller and blonder carefully walk in. "Kanji?"

His face seems tense for a moment then softens as if relieved. Was he worried about me? "Hey, Naoto. How you feelin'?"

"I've had better days, but I'm more bored than anything," I manage to crack out. This is definitely one of my more annoying symptoms; inability to speak like a human. My voice at this point is comparable to that of a Speak-And-Spell toy. And that's horrifying.

"Aw, that sucks. I hope ya don't mind me droppin' in like this. I was surprised your grandpa let me in considerin' how strict you say he can be when it comes to your health," Kanji explained as he took just enough steps into my room to close the door behind him. I'm sure Grandpa told him to do so to keep the chill of the hallway out of my room.

"I don't mind. It's nice to have some company for awhile that isn't my grandfather trying to take my temperature," I croak. Ugh, I sound awful. I wish the damn lozenges would work already.

The corner of Kanji's mouth picks up for a moment in a crooked smile and he pulls my desk chair up closer to my bedside. In very Kanji style, he turns the back towards me and sits incorrectly in the chair. I started to wonder if that's actually comfortable or if he does it to keep up his "tough guy" image. After he settled down, I noticed a bag leaning against his leg. No identifiable shapes or edges poked through the fabric of the bag so I couldn't deduce what he had with him.

"What's in your bag, if you don't mind telling me," I asked, curiosity barely pushing through my weak voice.

Kanji looked around as if to confirm what bag I was speaking of. His eyebrows raised in realization. "Oh yeah! Sorry, just, distracted I guess," he started, reaching beside him, hand disappearing into the bag. "I dropped by your class and picked up all your classwork. Figure you wouldn't wanna fall too far behind".

"Oh! Thank you," I reply a bit surprised. That was awfully considerate and forward-thinking of him, to pick up all my work without being asked. He's very, thoughtful.

As he placed a small pile (at least its something to do) of work on my desk, the classwork replacing the empty space left behind the case files, I reached up to stretch my body, causing my stomach to illicit a small rumbling sound of hunger. That's right. I hadn't eaten most of the day. I was given toast in the morning but ignored it for the sake of extra sleep. It now sat on my nightstand, cold and forgotten. And hard as a rock.

The ungainly noise seemed to catch Kanji's attention and reminded him suddenly of something. "I almost forgot! I brought you somethin' else," he admitted shyly. His face had taken on a pinkish hue. "I hope its still hot. It should be".

Out of his bag and into my hands he produced a small container. Indeed the plastic was quite warm to the touch, indicating that his assumption of the contents inside were hot.

With a suctioned _POP _the lid came off. Inside, slightly sloshing from my movement and with a delicious aroma wafting up to my nose, soup tempted another growl from my stomach. A smile pulled at my lips and I felt a need to ask though the answer was obvious. "You brought me soup?"

"A hand reached behind Kanji's head, scratching mindlessly as he spoke. "Y-Yeah, hope ya don't mind chicken noodle".

"Not at all. It's supposed to be the best for when you're sick anyway," I reassured him. After Kanji handed me a spoon from his bag of tricks (so prepared), I dunked the utensil into the broth, being sure to catch vegetable, pasta and protein in the mouth of the spoon. I took a bite.

The vegetables were just softened enough for my taste and the noodles were cooked perfectly. The chicken was cut into small chunks and moist, practically falling apart in my mouth. And the broth was seasoned wonderfully. I couldn't help but let an appreciative moan reverberate in my chest. "It's amazing". Was it just me or did my voice improve? Perhaps it was the aromatics doing their work. Or the steam and heat clearing my chest and sinuses. No matter.

Kanji, who I hadn't noticed observing my reaction intensely until he relaxed, sighed with relief, "Thank God. Was worried it was too salty".

"Oh, did you mother make it then?" I asked between spoonfuls. I just couldn't stop eating it. Partly to not be rude and partly because I was becoming increasingly more ravenous.

"You kiddin'? Ma makes it perfect every time," he scoffs and boasts. I imagined his mother was a great cook. Her son seemed plenty healthy.

"Then why were you worried that it would be too salty?" Munch munch. So good.

A pause.

"Well…um…I kinda…made it".

Eyes a bit wider, I looked up from my meal. Kanji's cheeks were blushed, an unsure expression on his face.

"You made this? For me?" His response was a single nod and quiet, little grunt in the affirmative. My face suddenly feels warm again, but I doubt its from the cold. Kanji, you surprise me with how tender you can be under all that leather, piercings and hair product. Another smile comes to my face as I feel a wave of the warm-and-fuzzies (as I believe they're called) travel through me. "That's so sweet of you, Kanji. Thank you so much!"

He grins back at me and we talked as I ate the remainder of my soup and for a great deal of the day. For once during my sick time away from my usual life I didn't feel like a prisoner in my own room. Or rather an asylum patient. I was going crazy from pure boredom after all. (Honestly, would it kill me to read the case files? At least I'd have some class work to keep me occupied). After discussing many topics, Kanji gathered up his empty plastic ware and dropped it into his bag. "Should probably get goin'. Help Ma close up shop and stuff".

I frowned a bit. His company had been incredibly enjoyable and much needed. And definitely helped my mood and to some extent, the progression of my healing. My voice finally resembled that of humanity and not an amphibian.

And I just hated to see him go. But I know better than to stand between him and his mother and obligations to their family business. "Thank you for everything, Kanji-kun. I greatly enjoyed your visit," I smiled.

"Your welcome, Naoto. Feel better," he grinned back, face only slightly pinked now. Soon he was gone.

I shifted in my bed to get my book from my nightstand. Suddenly, I heard something hit the floor. I peeked over the edge of my bed and saw an envelope on the hardwood. Of course my detective brain kicked in and saw it as a clue or the beginning of a new case, but I quickly shook my head. It was simply an envelope that Kanji must've left behind. Perhaps I could catch him before he left.

I leaned down, careful to not let too much blood rush to my head as I did, and retrieved the forgotten cargo from the ground. I flipped it over in my hands and read my name written in Kanji's handwriting on the blue envelope. "For me?"

I carefully opened the flap and pulled the card out. It was a get well card. How sweet. The front simply said "Feel better soon" written in beautiful script with a picture of two birds sitting on a tree branch nestling into each other. Very cute. It brought a smile to my face as I opened the card to read the inside. To my surprise my eyes weren't met with the same script, but rather more of Kanji's handwriting.

"_Dear Naoto,_

_I hope you feel better really soon. We all miss you back at school. It's not the same without you around. Seeing you in the hallway always makes me happy, but when you're not there, it brings down my day. And I know how you hate to be a drag to your friends so hurry up and heal!"_

The order barked in my head in Kanji's voice and made me physically laugh out loud. My eyes skid down to the bottom, seeing that he had written more.

"_And I was hoping that after you feel better, maybe you'd want to get some real food with me. Just me and not just some chicken noodle soup. _

_Hoping you get better quick,_

_Kanji"_

My chest swelled and my face started to hurt. I was smiling so much and I didn't realize it until I finished reading Kanji's signed name which was much prettier than I had imagined. Did he just-? Was that him-?

I reached towards my nightstand and took up my phone. My fingers flew over the buttons and before I knew it I had typed a message to Kanji simply saying, "The day I'm better. Aiya, please". I even included one of those text hearts at the end made from the 'less than' sign and the number 3. (Aparently Rise's constant get well texts were getting the better of me). Perhaps the heart was appropriate given the fluttering in my own.

I reached for a glass of nearby water and chugged some of it down before nestling into my covers and closing my eyes. Now I had to get better quick. I had a date waiting for me.


End file.
